


About (Not) Letting Go

by nano_morphus



Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Getting Together, Kaito is confused, M/M, Post-Canon, Shinichi doesn't remember Kaito, Temporary Amnesia, basically no beta we die like men, black org is done with, my friend who doesn't write fic beta'd this for me so, sad face
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:01:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28170591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nano_morphus/pseuds/nano_morphus
Summary: There’s something strangely familiar about the way Kuroba’s mouth tilts when he smiles, about the lilt to his voice when he says detective –Or, Shinichi's journey to relearn Kuroba Kaito through lost memories.
Relationships: Kudou Shinichi | Edogawa Conan/Kuroba Kaito | Kaitou Kid
Comments: 6
Kudos: 37





	About (Not) Letting Go

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays, Jade! I have your gift this winter season :) One of my favorite tropes is post-canon college/university, so that's what I wrote. I hope you enjoy the little twist I put on it, I haven't seen many amnesia fics floating around this fandom! 
> 
> Anyways please enjoy!! And to everybody reading I hope you have a good end of the year despite all the circumstances. We're almost to 2021!

With how these cases typically go, the one that greets Shinichi first thing Monday morning doesn’t stand out much at all. It’s a typical murder-staged-to-look-like-a-hit-and-run, and Shinichi pins down a suspect the moment he reaches the crime scene when he catalogs the mild fidgeting of one of the male “witnesses” detained by the police. All he has to do now is find the damning evidence, before he’ll be free to make it twenty minutes late to his lecture.

The most interesting thing, Shinichi observes, about the crime scene is its proximity — for all of Shinichi’s attractions to crime (a corpse magnet, Sonoko has always called him), this one was the first case he’s encountered on his own university campus. He’s been keeping a morbid, mental streak on how long until his grim reaper-like tendencies brought one to Tokyo University, and the much dreaded day has finally reached him forty one days into his undergraduate degree. Megure Keibu had looked utterly unsurprised when Shinichi had ducked under the police tape and given a small wave, explaining that he went to school just a block away. He’d done the usual pleasantries with detective Takagi, and then went about surveying the scene. 

As Shinichi ponders all this, he conveniently finds a black, crescent-shaped fingernail mark on the back of the victim’ coat that proves that the woman had been shoved into the street. A glance at the witnesses tells Shinichi that his initial hunch was correct, and the culprit was indeed Ide Tamahiko, the second year engineering major. One look under his nails showed the remnants of black oil from his project the night previous. Tamahiko then breaks down and confesses that the victim had stolen important data from his project, and that had driven him into a fit of rage, resulting in the crime. Shinichi almost wants to roll his eyes. Why are people so quick to take another’s life for such petty reasons? The crime scene disperses from there, with Takagi thanking Shinichi and reminding him to drop by the station later to do the paperwork. As Shinichi gathers his things to go to class, he notices a witness loitering about who has yet to disperse watching Shinichi carefully. A chill runs down Shinichi’s spine. Someone watching him has never bode well for him. 

Shinichi stalks up to the man, categorizing his features as he gets closer. He’s conventionally attractive, with a sharp jaw, bright eyes, and deliberately styled unruly hair. As he notices Shinichi approaching, he offers a sharp grin, and Shinichi falters a bit, knowing he’s seen that grin before, somewhere…

“Detective,” the other man says in greeting, taking a hand out of his jean pocket and holding it out for a handshake. Shinichi takes it reluctantly, eyes still analyzing the man’s face to search for features he’d recognize, features from his time _before_ , frustrated when he finds nothing.

“And you are…?” Shinichi replies, and receives another one of those grins in return. The man withdraws his hand from the handshake, snapping it to make a yellow rose appear out of nowhere. He puts the flower into Shinichi’s outdrawn hand, and bends himself into a bow.

“Kuroba Kaito, at your service.” the man – Kuroba – replies, and Shinichi once again gets the nagging feeling that he knows this person, that this is not the first, or even second, time they’ve met. Shinichi wants to pull his hair out. He hates it when there is such a huge mystery right in front of him that he is just unable to solve. 

“Kuroba-san,” Shinichi says carefully after reluctantly tucking the rose into his briefcase, “thank you for your cooperation with the case. The Tokyo Police greatly appreciated your help, and you are otherwise free to go–”

“Yes, yes, I know,” Kuroba interrupts Shinichi’s practiced spiel. He’s leaning into a nearby lamppost, body language suggesting that he’s completely relaxed. Kuroba leans in suddenly, until he and Shinichi are face to face. “I didn’t leave because I wanted to see you, Meitantei.”

Shinichi blinks, caught off guard. He’s used to being, for a lack of a better word, propositioned, either due to his fame as the Heisei Holmes or for his looks. But rarely does anyone show interest at a crime scene of all things, especially not a witness who had just seen someone gruesomely run over. Yet Kuroba’s eyes are void of malice – although they have a hint of mischief to them – and Shinichi can’t discern any other motives. Normally, this is the part where Shinichi respectfully declines the other person’s advances. Although he’s not particularly inclined to one gender or the other, Shinichi has generally found the prospect of dating someone so soon after Ran not a healthy prospect. Shinichi opens his mouth to give a polite apology, yet–

Yet there’s something strangely familiar about the way Kuroba’s mouth tilts when he smiles, about the lilt to his voice when he says detective –

“Your number?” is what comes out of Shinichi’s mouth instead of a rejection. When Kuroba’s mouth opens partly in shock, Shinichi clarifies. “I’ll give you mine too, so we can meet again.”

Kuroba apparently recovers from whatever's got him so surprised as he plasters on another one of those grins, and speedily takes Shinichi’s phone. “Contact me, Kudou Shinichi.” He winks, before walking off into the street, leaving Shinichi with a contact number saved as an emoji clover.

\---

“Kudou-kun? Are you listening, Kudou?” Haibara’s irritated voice snaps Shinichi out of his daze. They’re in her lab in Hakase’s house for his check-up. It’s only been a year since Shinichi returned to his previous body and life, so the little scientist was understandably worried. Although Shinichi has not exhibited any unusual symptoms (he’s been sleeping fine, eating fine, and his immune system has held up even in the winter), Haibara still insisted on him visiting the lab every Sunday morning for a blood test and so forth. 

“Sorry,” Shinichi scratches his cheek sheepishly, “What were you saying?”

“I said,” Haibara’s vein is popping out of her head as she huffs, “that you’re all good to go this week, again.” She throws a worried glance in his direction. “Have you remembered anything new?” 

See, the thing is, Shinichi has readjusted to his life well, and nothing is out of place with his body. But, he also can’t remember a huge chunk of his life. When he had taken Haibara’s cure for the apotoxin, he had woken up in his sixteen year old body with memories that pertained only up to that age. The last thing he really remembered was going to Tropical Land with Ran, and any of the memories from his three years as Conan were nonexistent in his mind. He couldn't even remember who the detective boys were, when Haibara brought them to see him, or who the man living in his house, Subaru Okiya, was. 

(It’s like your body, and your mind, have been reset,” Haibara had said, “it’s like everything was returned to its rightful place, except that that place is three years ago.”)

Shinichi has readjusted rather well with the help of his parents and friends. With the Black Org taken down – at least in Japan, Haibara says that Jodie-sensei, who was apparently a FBI agent Shinichi was well acquainted with, was still on the prowl for their remnants in other countries – Haibara had explained everything to Ran, and Ran, being the kind, loyal soul she is, had taken pity on Shinichi instead of getting angry. Ran and Sonoko had brought him to places he had frequented as Conan with the hopes of jogging his memory. That had helped some – Shinichi could remember more bits and pieces, but never full days, never full enough memories to say that he has recovered. 

“Nothing much this week either. Sorry, Haibara.” Haibara just nods, resigned. Shinichi knows that she blames herself for his memory loss, though he has assured her repeatedly that she has done all she could. 

“Ah but, I did meet someone I thought was familiar, but didn’t know why.” Shinichi brings up with the hopes of making Haibara feel better, and it works. Haibara perks up, and pulls out her document that she has reserved for Shinichi’s returning memories. 

“Can you describe him?” She has her hands on her keyboard, ready to type away. 

“He didn’t have many features that stood out, other than hair that makes him look like he wrestled with a pigeon. He looked around my age.” When Haibara showed no signs of recognition, Shinichi continued, “He did call me ‘Meitantei’ though, and the way he said ‘Detective’ felt very familiar…”

Even without all of his memories, he and Haibara formed an easy friendship that Shinichi treasures. So Shinichi easily picks out the telltale signs of amusement on Haibara’s face – the slight twist to her lips, the crinkle in her eyes – that she tries to hide. Shinichi’s eyes narrow suspiciously. 

“I see.” Haibara’s mouth twitches, and now Shinichi knows she’s flat out laughing at him. “Well, now I know who _that_ is.” 

“And you aren’t going to tell me?” Shinichi raises an eyebrow. 

“Are you going to see him again?” 

“Maybe, I don’t know. He did give me his number, though.” At that, Haibara raises her eyebrows. “Is that unusual?” 

“For him, I’d say it is.” Haibara pushes her laptop shut, and returns it to her desk drawer. “Well, I’m sure you’ll figure it out for yourself soon enough, Meitantei. Now go. I have better things to do in my lab than entertain you.” 

And so Shinichi leaves Haibara’s lab with more questions than he had when he entered. Now he’s truly interested in who this elusive Kuroba Kaito is. Before, Kuroba was but a fleeting interest that occupied the back of Shinichi’s mind, but now he has morphed into a full-blown mystery. As Shinichi walks home, he pulls out his phone and does a hasty google search of the elusive man. What comes up is unsurprisingly little: a name under the records of Ekoda High School and a quick mention as a stunt double in an action flick that Shinichi had seen advertisements for a couple months ago. Anything else was of somebody else who shared the same name. Shinichi’s hand hovers back to Kuroba’s contact info (which is still just the clover, Shinichi, for some reason, hasn’t bothered to change it), wondering if he should reach out. He weighs the costs and benefits, decides that there wasn’t a lot of risk, especially since Haibara has cleared Kuroba from being anyone dangerous, and opens a new text message. 

**Me** : This is Kudou Shinichi. 

Shinichi jolts as a reply comes almost instantly. 

🍀: kudou-kun! i was wondering when you would get back to me!!!  
🍀: you’re free tomorrow afternoon right  
🍀: let’s meet at this cafe, it’s close to both of our schools  
🍀: [location]

Shinichi feels like he should be concerned that this Kuroba Kaito has somehow gotten his hands on both a) his schedule, and b) his school address, but for some reason, he isn’t. Everything about Kuroba Kaito has felt friendly. 

**Me** : That sounds good. I’ll see you then.

Shinichi puts his phone away, having reached his own house’ gates. He tries to put away thoughts of the mysterious man as he enters his house, instead focusing on the shoes placed tidily at his front door, signifying the arrival of Ran, Sonoko, and Makoto to keep him company. Kuroba Kaito can wait until tomorrow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I'll be posting the next few chapters in the next couple of days ;)

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [Tumblr](https://ultramarineicecream.tumblr.com/)!


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